She held up her tape measure, her eyes never leaving mine. I was hoping that her hand would caress my bulge, silently giving me permission to strip her, but she was not that aggressive. Clearly, measuring customer’s cocks was not something she did every day, or she would know just to tug my pants down – there was not even a zipper to contend with – and whip out my meat. In fact at that instant I was picturing that in my mind, with her falling to her knees and sucking the tip between her willing lips. In reality, there was just an awkward moment of silence.
“Did you look at the bottom of my bed?” I finally mumbled. “Is there enough room for the regular vacuum to reach underneath, or will she need a special attachment?”
“I better check,” Amy agreed, her youthful bounce as she pivoted and skipped the three steps to bedside indicating a return of her natural joyfulness. It also gave me a great view of how the muscles in her posterior worked.
Amy glanced back over her shoulder before bending down and dropping to her knees, as if wanting to make sure that I was watching – like I would be looking anywhere else!
With her calves flat to the floor, Amy lowered her head below the bottom edge of the box spring. I am not sure though whether she really needed to thrust her rump high in the air to do so, but she did. This caused her pants to pull down and her shirt to ride up, offering me a view of the perfect dimple at the base of her spine, just above where her buttocks met, hinting at the valley that ran down between those muscular protrusions. I think I started panting, knowing how the nerves at that spot would react to my tongue.
“I’m not sure, I need to measure I guess,” Amy broke my dream state. “Can you hand me the measure, I think I dropped it on the mattress?”
With my longer legs, it took me only two steps to stand beside where Amy knelt by my feet. I saw the tape measure, picked it up, and bent to hand it to her.
Amy did not reach back for it. Instead she said “Can you help me hold it again?”
Which was ridiculous – she clearly had enough dexterity to manage the device herself to measure that narrow space without my help. My imagination might have supplied the extra lilt in her voice as she said the words “hold it”. My little primitive brain knew what IT wanted held, and was telling my larger human mind to shut up and let the beast within take over.
I dropped to my knees, not flat to the floor like her. This left my groin right at the level of Amy’s face when she lifted her head and turned to take the tape measure. I would swear in a court of law that I did not intentionally hold the measure so close to my body that her fingers grazed along my hardness as she reached to take it from me, but that was still what happened.
Still she did not pursue the situation, turning back to her task.
“Can you get right down here and hold this so I can make a note?” Amy asked.
Silently, I complied, confusion flooding my brain, my cock softening a bit in response. Amy slid away from the bed. I could not see what she was doing, but guessed she was reaching for her clipboard. I fantasized about her hard nipples rubbing against her shirt, her tongue wet along her lower lip as she had her turn to admire my rump. Of course, I was not in anything like the shape Amy was, and I had no way of knowing whether she was checking me out. After she had not bothered to measure my obvious bulge, I had to wonder about her intentions.
“Okay, that’s done – but I still think we need to let the steam build up,” Amy said as she bounced to her feet. “Since you don’t have a chair up here, I guess we can sit on the bed for a few minutes. It does look like a comfy bed.”
“Just right, as Goldilocks might say.”
Amy laughed. “Well, I was blonde in my younger days, but I was never afraid of bears.”
Her dainty feet dangled off the edge of the bed, swaying in the air. I stood, watching her breathe. Her chest rose and fell, her nipples still hard against the fabric. It took me a moment to realize that her eyes were glued to my bulge. Her tongue flicked across her lower lip.
“How come your bulge gets bigger then smaller and now it is getting hard again?” she asked, calmly, like she was asking about room sizes.
“All the time I look at you, I am excited, but some times more than others.”
“Really?” Amy giggled nervously, tossing her hair slightly.
“When I thought you were going to whip my cock right out and measure it, I was ready to come in my pants.”
Amy blushed beautifully.
“There’s something I need to tell you,” she said in a soft voice, so quietly that even with our faces inches apart, I barely heard her.
I chuckled, however inappropriate that might have been.
“After what I just said I think you can say just about anything.”
Before Amy spoke, she reached her hand out, pushed my pants down and extracted my cock, passing me the tape measure.